


When the Levee Breaks

by stonedcutoats



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Episode: s14e12 Prophet and Loss, Post-Episode: s14e12 Prophet and Loss, Pre-Castiel/Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 14 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 03:15:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonedcutoats/pseuds/stonedcutoats
Summary: On the drive back to Lawrence, Dean and Cas have their turning point moment. Post-Episode Prophet and Loss.





	When the Levee Breaks

The car was silent, save for the typical rumbling of movement and the light music that crooned out of the speakers. Zeppelin.

Sam was asleep in the passenger seat, his face shrouded in darkness; only glowing a pale yellow for the brief seconds when they would pass under the occasional light on the side of the two-lane blacktop. Cas was in the backseat, in the middle, and elbow on each side of the bench seat. He liked to sit leaning forward, saying it helped him feel less trapped in the vehicle. If Sam had been awake, he would have reprimanded him by now for not wearing a seatbelt, but Sam had fallen into a restless sleep less than 20 minutes into the car ride. And Dean’s mind was racing.

~Why don’t you believe in us too?~

Dean’s cheek stills stung from where Sam had hit him. It hadn’t been the hardest punch, one stemming from emotional outburst rather than rage, but it had hurt just the same. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time Sam had hit him. Had it been Stull cemetery? Dean only had to close his eyes to see his little brother standing over him with the eyes of an archangel. He never blamed Sam for what he did under Lucifer’s control but that imaged still fueled Dean’s nightmares.

~Why don’t you believe in us too?~

God, Dean believed in Sam. Believed in him more than anything. But this –

Dean knew that they had been down before, he wasn’t an idiot. But when his arm brushed up against Cas’s on the back of the seat as he shifted, he was suddenly reminded of what had brought him to even seriously consider the drastic choice.

What was left to save them? At first, it had been the angels, sent down on a noble mission, with blatant disregard of the lives they hurt, all working towards the greater good, a world much bigger than them. And it worked, for a while, until another big bad came along and they were out of hope. And then God. Chuck. And what was there now?

Cas’s presence weighed on his mind. There was a time when Cas was the strongest and most powerful entity he could have ever imagined. Not that he wasn’t still impressed by Cas, but there were times that he forgot Cas was even an angel, like the times we wandered the bunker in the early afternoons, or when he studied lore alongside Sam, drinking the coffee Dean had made for him even though he didn’t need it. Dean tried to picture how his 30-year-old self would react to an angel of the lord taking up a bedroom in their residence. He couldn’t.

“Cas?” asked Dean, breaking the silence. They were three hours into the ten-hour drive back from Hibbing to Lawrence. It was only 11:30, and Dean was convinced he could make it back to the bunker by daylight.

“Yes Dean?”

Cas’s voice was gruff and deep, as if he had just woken up. He spoke a little softer than usual, mindful of Sam.

“How long did you know, about the whole –“ Dean waved his hand in the air slightly as he spoke.

“Locking yourself with an archangel for all eternity?”

Dean exhaled and wiped his hand down his face before returning it to the steering wheel. “Yeah, Cas. That.”

“Sam called me as soon as he found out. When you were at Donna’s cabin.” Dean didn’t say anything, so Cas pressed on. “I now you didn’t want me or Jack to know. And we didn’t tell him. Jack, that is, he’s just a child.”

Dean grunted in agreement, although the logistics of Jack being a child were subpar at best. Chronologically, Jack was 2 years old, but he had already fought in a war. And died.

“And I know Sam didn’t want to break your trust. But it was a lot for him, Dean. He needed a confidant, someone to help him. To share the load,” added Cas.

“Share the load?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not –” Cas paused, considering his words, “– a burden, if that’s what you think. I only mean that Sam doesn’t often have someone to talk to aside from you, and I think he just needed someone to share this with.”

Dean didn’t really have anything to say after that. The song changed, and 'When the Levee Breaks' softly started through the speakers. Cas hummed appreciatively, and Dean remembered that he had placed this song on the mixed tape he had given the angel. The third track, if he remembered correctly. That felt like eons ago now. Dean briefly wondered if Cas still had the tape but brushed the thought away as soon as if came up. 

Dean reached toward the dial on the dash and twisted it just a hair, letting the music flow a little louder. There was a time, long ago, where Dean would have cranked the music on a sleeping Sam, joking and laughing as he was jostled awake to the sounds of classic rock. 26-year-old Dean wouldn’t have let Sam sleep in the car for longer than 20 minutes. 26-year-old Dean had no idea what was coming for him. 

~Cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good, ~

Dean grimaced at the lyrics as they rang true, and kept his eyes on the road. Cas hummed lightly along with the track.

The song played on, as did the next and the next, until 20 minutes had gone by, and the last track began to play. The scenery hadn’t changed throughout the drive, just vast farmland split by two-land blacktop. Not a single car had passed them since the album had started.

It was why Dean liked driving at night. The silence, the solitude, even with passengers in the car. He remembered his father telling him once that night driving was one of the best things to clear a man’s head. How many nights had Dean spend the way Sam was now, dozing off to classic rock as his father drank large truck-stop coffees with whiskey, and drove through the night?

“Queue her up, Cas,” said Dean, ejecting the tape and placing it on the dash.

Diligently, Cas began to search through the metal box of tapes that had been resting on the back bench seat for the past 30 odd years. Over time, slowly, the job of picking the music had been transferred from Dean, to Sam, and then Cas. Neither Sam or Dean minded, and to be honest, Dean enjoyed letting Cas choose. There was something nice, Dean had decided a while ago, with letting someone else pick the music. Letting someone else decide how they wanted to enjoy the drive.

“So how – what did you think of it? The plan?” Dean kept his face blank as he could, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting up towards the rear-view mirror, and catching a glimpse of a beige trench coat, searching through records like it was his life’s mission. Just past Cas, if he squinted, he could make out the hideous trailer attached to the back of the Impala, and the box it carried. The Impala felt heavier with it attached, as if it was slowly dragging him down ahead of schedule. He drew his eyes away as Cas answered.

“I told you at the hospital, with Donatello. It is a suicidal plan. I am glad that Sam managed to get you to postpone it.”

“Postpone it?”

Cas picked up a tape, and examined it, attempting to made out the faded name written on the side. “I don’t believe you have any plan to see out other arrangements. I think you did it for his benefit.”

And of course, that was what he had done. Dean glanced over the seat beside him, where Sam slept. His little brother. He watched as Sam brought his right hand up slowly and used it to cradle his cheek against the door frame. Dean smirked, as he knew then that Sam was truly asleep – when he faked it, he was stiff as a board.

“Well come on, Cas. I couldn’t – I couldn’t have said no to him. Not like that. He believes –“ Dean grimaced. Why don’t you believe in us too? “He believes that he can find something.”

“You don’t think that he can?”

“What’s gonna come save us this time, Cas? Billie, freaking Death, said that this is the way. The only way. So, this is the only way. I mean, the kid’s a genius, but –”

“Perhaps if Jack knew, he could do something.”

Dean whistled under his breath. “If Jack could so something, Billie would have known about it. Sam, and you, you’re acting as if I haven’t thought this through, man. But I have. This isn’t the kind of thing you do a whim.”

“So, you went on the goodbye tour?”

“That what Sam called it?” said Dean gruffly.

Yes, he felt bad about that. Of course, he did. But looking at what had happened just a few hours prior, Dean didn’t think that he had made the worst decision. He wouldn’t have been able to even finish the box if Sam had known. There’s no way Sam would have left him.

Cas was quiet for a minute. “Would you really have gone without saying goodbye to Sam? Without –” Cas paused, and Dean waited. But Cas didn’t say anything more so Dean took a deep breath and answered.

“I think I wanted to, man. I think, I think I just thought that it would have been easier. But hell, I don’t know if I couldn’t have gotten through with it.”

“He doesn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve that.”

“What do you mean?”

Cas pulled a tape from the box and flipped it over in his hands a few times. The fidgeting was such a purely human habit, one he had picked up from long car rides with the brothers, and Dean couldn’t help but let a small smile drift to his face. It faded a second later when Cas spoke, low and deliberate.

“How many times are you going to task me with looking after your distraught brother after you go off and sacrifice yourself to the world?”

Dean slammed on the breaks, and with a painful squeal, the car skidded to a stop. A clang rang out, as the box Dean planned to bury himself in slammed forward on the trailer, only to be jerked back by the ropes that held it on.

Dean spoke through his teeth, and his heart started racing. A light banging noise came from inside his head – Michael was most present when he lost control. “Jesus fucking Christ, Cas.”

Cas was quiet, and Dean felt like his jagged breath was the loudest thing in the world. After a shaky inhale, Dean pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door, it’s ever present squeak ringing in the night. Dean swung his feet out and planted them on the ground. The cold Minnesota air blew into the car, and he felt it cool his face. Hands shaking, eyes closed, Dean lowered his face into his hands and tried to steady his breathing. His heart was pounding, and he could feel Michael beat against the walls of his cage in time to his heartbeat.

Cas’s door opened, then closed gently, but he heard nothing to indicate the angel moving around the car.

After a moment, Dean stood and turned to face Cas over the roof of the Impala. “You think I like this? You think I like any of this?”

“I don’t know how you think that it’s fair.”

“Fair?” shouted Dean. “None of this is anywhere close to fair, Cas. You think I like this? Having to go and die? Having to make that choice. Leaving Sam, leaving – I mean, fuck, Cas. I have an angel in my head, and I can hear him, pounding at the door. He is screaming in my head! That’s not fair, Cas!”

Cas glowered at him, and began to walk, slowly around the front of the Impala. “You think you can check out. You say that is it because it will solve the world’s problems, keep away the monsters. No, I think you’re scared.”

“You’re goddamn right I’m scared,” said Dean, slamming the Impala’s door and stepping away from the car. Cas stood at the hood, and Dean could see the remains of heat from the engine steaming up from the cold air.

“Then fight.”

“I’ve tried! There’s nothing I haven’t tried. If there was a way, someone would know. Billie, or whoever, would have a plan. But there isn’t one.”

“God,” said Cas, taking a step towards Dean; one slow and deliberate step. “Have you tried to contact him. He helped you before.”

“You know,” said Dean, running his hand down his face. “I don’t think I have Chuck’s contact info anymore.”

“This isn’t a joke, Dean, you cannot simply check out of this life. Sam was right, you cannot find a way tomorrow if you give up today. I will not let you sacrifice your life.”

“Why not, Cas? Never been an issue for you before. That was my whole purpose, right? My whole mission? To be used as an angel condom for some big end of the world showdown?”

“Things have changed in the last decade.”

Dean scoffed, and Cas stepped forward again. The air around them had changed to something, sharp, electric. It smelled like rain, or a thunderstorm, but Dean knew well enough to remember the smell of an angel’s grace.

“If you do this, you waste all that I have sacrificed for you. I dug my way through Hell to you Dean Winchester.”

Dean laughed darkly, one loud harsh bark. “Yeah, yeah, right. You crawled into Hell, and you gripped me tight and raised me from perdition. So that Michael could get inside me. Well, look at this, are you happy now, Cas? Here he is!”

The air crackled. “I dug you out so that wouldn’t happen. And I am far from happy. You doing this –”

Cas stepped forward again, and this time, Dean almost wanted to step back. The wind and cool air that was causing goosebumps to raise Dean’s arms were blowing Cas’s trench coat and tie around as he stood, seething with anger. Dean could almost feel the energy in the air as the wind whipped around them, and Dean could almost picture sparks flying, the shadow of wings filling the air, bullets shot off, round after round, the Castiel that he had first met. Cas looked more like a warrior of God in that moment than he had in years.

When he spoke, it was low and deep, like how he used to talk when humans were nothing, but fleas and Dean was nothing more than the righteous man who started the apocalypse. “I rebelled for you, Dean Winchester. I have stolen, and lied, and sinned, in ways no human or angel should do. I have killed for you, humans, monsters, my own family. I lost my entire family, because of you. For you.”

Cas stepped forward again, and this time Dean did step back. Once step, two steps, and suddenly his back was flush against the driver’s side door of Baby, and an angel of the Lord stood three feet away, tearing him apart with every word he spoke.

“I followed your soul, the brightest thing in Hell, and I put you back together, piece by piece. I know every part of you like it is my own. I have fought with you, for you and against you. And you want to throw away every sacrifice I have made, that your brother has made for you, because you are scared to hold on. You are scared to wait it out and find something better.”

The roaring sound of an 18-wheeler rumbled in the distance, and Dean stared Cas dead in the eye, not blinking nor moving as it sped past them. Dean’s ears rang at the sudden noise, and just as quickly as it had arrived, it was gone, and the silence of the night settled back down. Neither man moved or spoke for a moment, letting Cas’s words sink in.

“I didn’t want to wait it out,” said Dean finally, softer than Cas. “I don’t think that I can. I can feel him, man, in my head. And he’s digging around looking for a way out, a way to take over, and Cas, I- I can’t let him do that. If he gets out and hurts you, or Sam, or Jack, or Mom? And what happens when he takes over. And, Cas, man, God’s not gonna help. He doesn’t care. This is just another one of his projects, he’s moved on to some other planet, some other reality, and he’s probably sipping margaritas with Amara and watching us, laughing at us tiny humans and his little soldiers trying and failing to save a lost cause.”

“You don’t believe that, Dean. That’s Michael’s opinion.”

“And maybe he’s right. Or not, maybe God cares, sure, we can pretend that. But not enough to do anything about it. And I have to do my part. Because if I don’t, and the people that I love get –“ Dean shook his head, and closed his eyes tightly before swallowing and letting his usual stoic face slid back into place.

“You don’t have to do that Dean.”

“Do what, Cas?”

“Pretend you don’t care. You can care, and feel. And you can be angry. But you can’t check out. You can’t decide that you’ve done all that you can do, and that it’s time to give up. You are a hunter, and you have a job. And I don’t –“

Cas stopped himself there, and Dean stared him right in the eye, feeling the cool metal door against his back, the chill seeping through his jacket. When Dean exhaled, he saw his breath come out in a cloud. “You don’t what, Cas?”

Cas stepped forward again, now less than two feet away. Dean could touch him if he reached his arm out. “I don’t want you to do this.”

Squaring his shoulders, and swallowing his fears, Dean asked: “Why not?”

Cas didn’t say anything, and a pained look came across his face. And Dean’s heart almost stopped as he held his breath, waiting, hoping, praying. He didn’t even know what answer he was looking for, but then again, maybe he did.

When Cas finally spoke, each word was slow and deliberate. “I already told you. I told, I told all of you. After Ramiel –“

Dean’s eyes squeezed shut. Cas, laying on the floor, writhing in pain. He could picture it like it was yesterday. 

~You’re my family. I love you. I love all of you.~

~I love you.~

~I love you.~

“Cas,” said Dean, voice shaking, letting his eyes open and searched Cas’s face.

Cas stepped forward again, and Dean let out a ragged exhale. Cas’s voice was nothing more than a whisper when he spoke. “You have to know something. I did something stupid. When Jack was in heaven.”

“What did you do?” Dean managed to choke out.

Cas took another step, and he was there, in front of Dean. Dean could feel the heat coming off his body, and his heart beat a little faster, a little faster. 

~I love you.~

Cas let his forehead drop and rest on Dean’s and they stood there, eyes locked. The air between them burned and the places where their heads touched felt like fire. It felt like a dream, almost too good, as if something would come and take it away if Dean took his eyes off Cas for even a second.

“The empty came. It, it wanted Jack. And I couldn’t let it take him.”

Dean froze, and felt Cas breathe softly, his warm breath hitting Dean’s face. As billions of terrible options raced through his mind, he asked, “What did you do Cas?”

“I offered myself instead,” said Cas, and Dean felt his throat close up. “I couldn’t let it take him, Dean. He’s my son. I could deal with his death, but that place? That place is a nightmare. Jack deserved Heaven, and that place, the empty, it is nothing but an eternity of nothingness.”

“What did you do?”

“I offered myself.”

Dean swallows, and his hand grasped at the air until it found Cas’s, hanging by his side. He let his hand slip into the other man’s grasp and felt the smooth dry skin underneath his calloused fingers. Cas’s fingers slowly closed around Dean’s hand and squeezed. “How are you here?”

“It’s waiting. Dean,” said Cas, and Dean leaned back to see tears forming in the corner of the angel’s eyes. “I said I would go with it if it just let Jack go, but it wouldn’t take me then. It wanted to wait, it said it wants to take me when I was finally happy.”

And Dean understood. 

And then that was that. Dean slowly pulled his hand out from Cas’s and wiped his face, leaving his hand over his mouth for a moment long that usual. Cas took a step back, and tilted his head a bit, waiting for Dean to say something.

Dean swallowed deeply and looked behind him at his sleeping brother through the window of the Impala. And then back to Cas.

“Get in the damn car, Cas. We’re going home.”

Cas blinked, once, then twice, and Dean watched as the tears glistening in his eyes began to dry. As if it had never happened. And as Cas started to make his way to the door to get into the backseat, Dean reached out and put his hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“I don’t want you in the empty, Cas. But that doesn’t mean –“ Dean gritted his teeth as he spoke, struggling to get the words out “ –it doesn’t mean that I don’t want you happy.”

Cas turned and looked at Dean. Dean’s heart beat faster than it had during the entirety of their fight, and Michael was scratching away, laughing at Dean for something so juvenile, laughing at Dean for letting himself think he would ever get what he wanted. But this, this was something that the archangel could never take away.

“Do you get me?” asked Dean quickly, and Cas nodded. Dean continued, “And, and once we’re done with Michael, we’ll find a way to fix this too. I promise.”

Cas stilled for a moment, before turning and opening the car door, sliding in, and pulling it closed. Dean stood in the cold a second longer before opening the driver’s door with a squeak and settling back into his seat. He grabbed the keys from where he had dropped them on the seat, and started the car up, the familiar rumbling that he had heard his entire life filling up the space that the silence had left.

As Dean pulled away from the spot that had changed his life, a hand appeared over the seat back, offering a tape.

“You said you liked Bon Jovi, sometimes,” said Cas softly.

“On occasion,” said Dean.

“On occasion,” echoed Cas.

And Dean pushed the tape into the cassette player, and a guitar riff played out of the speakers. Everything had changed, but everything would stay the same.

“I’ll try and find another way,” said Dean, eyes trained on the road. “But I’m going to need help controlling Michael.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“I know you will.”

*

The road was dark, and the future looked grim, yet the two men sat in the car, with a man they both cared for sleeping near them, with knowledge that would shape the entirety of their future. And in the dark, each man let themselves smile softly, as unsaid words and undone actions built up in their imagination.

One day, they thought to themselves. And at that moment, it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed!  
> Also, using ~ ... ~ instead of italics...anyone know the best way to use those on here?  
> Thankyou!!


End file.
